Running From Prince Charming
by My Dearest Sally Sparrow
Summary: Jessica Stanley has had a rough life since high school, and after a rough break up with Mike Newton, refuses to date. So what happens when Brady, a wolf 3 years younger, imprints on her? Will she ever let herself fall in love again? Rated T for language
1. Chapter 1

I really, honestly, like, hate guys. I have never been in a relationship that worked out. And trust me, I'm not problem here. It's the freaking boys in Forks, Washington.

So my first relationship was with Edward Cullen.

Okay fine. We never really dated. But we did in my head. And that counts.

Edward had this whole broody, mysterious, 'I hate my life and my soul is damned' thing going for him, which I must admit, was hot. Very, very hot.

And then waltzes in Miss Fucking Isabella Swan. Oh dear God.

When I first heard we had a new student coming in from Arizona that was that crazy geezer cop's daughter, I think we all expected something a little more exciting than Bella. Hell, this girl was like albino even.

She was so damn _average._ So why did Edward Cullen have to think she was the best thing to walk this earth? I mean seriously.

Yeah, he looked like he wanted to eat her in the beginning, but then they became like Romeo and Juliet. So freaking charming.

So once I realized Edward Cullen was a moron and clearly could not tell the difference between mom jeans and miniskirts, I found myself a new crush, one that I vowed to myself never to tell to anyone, even Lauren who I now realize was a total bitch, : Eric.

And who did Eric already like? I think you already know. Frigging "Beautiful Swan" or whatever.

So the day after I decided I didn't like Eric, which was ironically the same day I decided I did like him, I realized how to be smart. I fell for the player of the school, because surely he would have me.

But no. Mike had to be obsessed with the mom jeans, just like everyone else in Forks High School. When I asked him to the spring dance he said he'd have to "think about it".

Hell. No.

You do not just tell a girl that you'll "think about it". That's like saying, "Oh, actually, I hate your guts and think you're the ugliest bitch I've ever seen, but am too nice to say anything." You just don't do it.

And you especially do not do tell a girl you'll "think about it" when you turn around the next second and ask Bella Bratface Goose to go with you instead.

Fuck, it was even a girl's choice dance.

But I guess I can't hate Bella too much, cause she did tell Mike that she thought he should tell me yes.

Then again, she did tell Mike that she thought he should tell me yes.

Whatever.

So, I went out with Mike for the rest of my high school life. Yes, we fought almost a hundred times and threatened to break up with the other a million, and broke up then just got back together the next day a billion. But that's what a normal high school relationship is.

Oh sorry. It's not that way for Mr. and Mrs. Bella Swan. Well, for them, they ended up marrying each other right after high school and living happily ever. And then she got this rare skin disease on the honeymoon and ended up dying young and the Cullens moved away in mourning.

Not that I was happy about that or anything.

Anyway, I dated Mike throughout college for a while, and then in my senior year, the night before graduation, he tells me he's going to meet me in my dorm after classes. So I skip on over like a longtime girlfriend should and what do I find when I walk in?

Mike Newton and Lauren Mallory making out.

My boyfriend and my best friend/roomie making out.

And not for the first time.

They'd been at for two years.

They both got bitch slapped and rightfully so.

So of course I broke up with Mike and Lauren became my ex best friend. And then I realized I was kinda stuck. I'd lost nearly six years of my life to Mike Douche Newton.

So I went and got myself a decent job as a secretary at Baker and Brown's: a respectable law firm in Port Angeles that didn't let just anyone in.

And yeah, all it said on the job requirements was to be able to handle a phone, work at a desk, and be overly-perky at all times. But still. It pays well.

I got myself a nice little house just outside of Forks, and real close that La Push beach.

I have a small, but awesome group of girl friends, and all the boys in Forks want us.

Face it: I'm living the life here.

The thing is… I'm still not happy. I feel like I'm missing something, like the piece to my puzzle, or a part of me. No matter how cliché that sounds. With every corner I turn, I'm looking for someone, something to complete my life. There's a little voice inside my head, that's telling me that he's out there somewhere. Mr. Right. The perfect boy. My soul mate.

But that voice can kiss my ass, cause I am single and loving it. I am not Bella Swan, and I don't need a man to make me happy. My fairy tale prince sure as hell is taking his time, so why should I sit on my butt in a tower, waiting for my happy ever after? Who needs royalty when I've got it made?

I'm not Rapunzel. I'm not Cinderella. I'm not Snow White. I'm not Sleeping Beauty. I'm not a fairy tale princess.

I'm me: Jessica Catherine Stanley. Age 24. Blood type A positive.

And I do not need a man to live my life.

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**So... this is the first ever Jessica/Brady story in all of FF! I'm kind of excited. But whatever. Happy Turkey Day guys! Please review and I love you all :) 3 Kat**


	2. Chapter 2

I woke to the jarring beep of my ancient alarm clock; the kind with the two bells on top and isn't even digital. Come to think of it, why the hell do I even have that thing?

Ow ow ow. Stop thinking Jess. Way too early. Coffee. Go get coffee.

I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen, miraculously not stubbing my toes in the process. Yes, today was going to be a good day. I could already feel it.

After I'd made the coffee, I rifled through the refrigerator and found the whipped cream. Spraying tons all over my drink, (stop judging) I sipped carefully and didn't even burn my tongue. Geez, what was this? The one perfect day before my life goes to shit?

I shrugged it off and had about six more cups of coffee before heading back to my bedroom to get ready for work.

I slowly but surely changed into the outfit picked out last night, with the accessories picked out last night, and applied the makeup picked out last night.

What can I say? I'm a bit of a perfectionist.

Carefully, I dug through my purse to make sure all necessities were safely stored in there, I glanced up at the mirror for a sec and- whoa.

Whoa.

Just, whoa.

As if in a trance, I walked over to the mirror, mesmerized by the girl that looked back at me.

Who was that?

Oh yeah, that fine lass was effing Jessica Catherine Stanley.

Me.

My luscious locks curled amazingly and naturally in ringlets that cascaded into a flowing waterfall of milk chocolate. The impeccable tan glowed upon delicate, velvety skin; it waltzed and shimmered, overlooking the harsh and revealing fluorescence. Colossal orbs peered in tremendous shock, astounded at their hypnotic hazel.

I. Was so. Hot.

There must be some reason for this. Some divine spirit has realized my suffering and helped me unlock the hotness within. I dropped to my knees and prayed as hard as I could to God, Buddha, whoever was listening. I didn't really think anything but two words, THANK and YOU. I figured they were enough.

Then I stood, smoothed my skirt, and pretended that had never happened.

I quite literally danced around my house, gathering the last of my stuff before setting out to work. I was on Cloud Nine, singing in the rain, whatever. Today was awesome, and it had barely even began. Driving in my silver Volkswagon Jetta, I was gracious on the road instead of racing to work and chewing out other drivers mentally. And I was still ten minutes early to work.

On the way up to the building, Landon, the sexy ass doorman, greeted me kindly, by staring at my figure. Mind you, this was the guy who had told Isaac who told Carl who told Yasmine who told Hannah who told me that I was just a Plain Jane. Uh huh. Take it all back honey.

The walk to my area too was an exciting adventure. There was this older, but still good looking, dude next to me and another woman who must have been in her late thirties. Meh. I'd give her about a 6.4 looks wise. Anyway, he couldn't keep his eyes off me either. And then she noticed he was staring at me, and got all puffed up the way women do when they're being outshined. It was pretty hilarious.

I opened the door to the partners's wing with some sort of feminine pride. Everyone turned to look at me, and I gladly accepted the challenge. No meowing today; this bitch was gonna roar. I sat down at my desk like a good little secretary and quickly pulled up some files to make it look like I was doing important crap.

See, here's the thing about Baker and Brown's Law Firm. We put on a big show. Our offices look like they came from photoshoots and are just missing male models half dressed. Every employee has this "act" of some sorts that they legit have to keep up. It's how you get hired. For instance, when anyone of any worth visits, I smile politely all the time, speak with a slight British accent to sound important, and often refer to my favorite books of Dickens. And then we get reports of how "classy" and "dignified" our place is.

Ha.

When it's just us? We have food fights all the time. We scream at each other for no point. We gossip like there's no tomorrow. We have dance parties spontaneously during the day. We bring in pillows and take naps under our desks. We yell at each other's exes via Skype. We practice our hair flips in the bathrooms. We complain about being fat as we eat more ice cream than imaginable together. So yeah, I kind of work in the best place ever. With the best people ever.

Except Sasha.

There's Isaac: the single dad that got stuck with four teenage daughters.

There's Hannah: the married who hits the club every night.

There's Evan: the slightly creepy insane hottie just out of college.

There's Penelope: the woman whose husband is a plastic surgeon and it shows.

There's Willy: the old geezer that goes on rants about society all the time.

There's Natalie: my overall best friend. (Not counting Angela of course)

There's Xaiver: the bro.

And then there's Sasha: the fucking bitch. I mean, this chick is the package deal of fake, bratty, and annoying. But nobody in the office likes her so it's all cool. Except for Evan likes everyone…

"Jess!" Natalie squealed and tackled me, knocking me off my chair, onto the floor.

I groaned. "Get off of me before I rip you apart with my nails." She quickly jumped off and I slowly sat up.

She smiled. "Sorry Jess, I just haven't seen you in forever and you look incredible!" Way to state the obvious. I nodded and hopped back in my chair.

"That's what those Thanksgiving holidays will do to ya."

Nat beamed. "So are you excited?"

I blinked. "For… what?"

"It's Christmas soon!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Everyone in the room stared for a good minute before going back to their lives. They were used to it. See, this is why Angela ranks before Natalie in my best friend listening. More chill, less hyper-active explosions.

I shrugged. "I guess."

"You guess?" She sighed and put her heads in her hands. "Why can't you be normal Jessica?"

I laughed. "Because that would I'd lose all my charm."

Sasha, trying and failing to imitate my perfect hair flip, was oh so accidentally walking by at that time and replied, in her nasally voice, "What charm?"

I snorted. "Sasha. Get your surgically done nose the fuck out of my life." Again, everyone in the office glanced in our direction. Sasha mumbled something incoherent and headed back to her desk.

Natalie and I shared a knowing glance. "Pwned," We stated in unison. Then we cracked up like the maniacs we are.

The door to our office opened and in walked the big guy. Mr. Colton. He's this fifty-ish year chubby guy with the sexiest mustache known to man. It's all black and curly… ugh. But he's the lawyer at the firm. He can win any case without even trying. This guy is god.

And of course, I happen to be his secretary.

Which you know, means we're BFF's.

Yeah bitch. My paycheck's HUGE.

He makes his way over to my desk joyfully like Santa or something. "Jessica!" He booms.

"Mr. C!" I grin. We both make the same face, before holding our fists up. "Pound it!" We yelled in unison. Laughing, we bumped fists like tradition.

"So how were your Thanksgiving holidays?" He asked, twirling his 'stache.

I shrugged. "Earned three frigging pounds, worked 'em off ASAP."

Mr. Colton chuckled. "That's my girl." He ruffled my hair affectionately. "By the way, my son is coming into the office today, so try not to submit to his ways, alright?"

I snorted. Everyone knew Mr. C's son was the biggest player and the biggest jackass ever. I'd never met him, but heard enough. "You can count on me, C. I'm still on my boyfast."

He grinned and looked over as the doors opened. "Oh, that's him!"

By that time, I'd found actual paperwork I was having to fill out real quick. God, my life sucks. I was scribbling shit on it until I felt a warm presence right in front of my desk. My eyes trailed up a gorgeous body…

And quite literally got lost in Brady Colton's eyes.

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Review please! And happy 2011 to all!

- Katherine


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